Wherever You Are
by Writer In Dior
Summary: Massie Block had a life in the public eye. What everyone seemed to want. To be a celebrity. What happened when a certain ex-Pretty Committee member decides to invade it? Massie Block will certainly fight back.
1. Trailer

**A/N: **Alright, so I'm starting my very first story titled "Wherever You Are". And, I'm not quite sure about this plot, so I want to see if you guys like it and another thing. So: I jotted down a quick introduction-meets-trailer, please give me your opinion after you read both Author's Notes. Thanks much!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Clique; Lisi Harrison does and all others associated with the Clique do.

**xxx**

**She Has It All. Looks, Fame, Fortune...**

"Give me one single reason why I should consider using your work for Sophisticate."  
"Well, I uh..."  
"Wrong answer. Get out."

**If You Could Only Meet Her...**

"Massie, Massie, do you KNOW who I am?"  
"Ehmagawd, you don't know who you are?"

**Does She Have Problems?**

"I do not have anger management issues!"  
"We have a call on line one."  
"From who?"  
"Some prime minister. Or was it a priest?"

**Can She Let Go Of The Past?**

"Psssh, get a life."  
"Are you squashing a bug?"  
"No..."  
"Then why are you pretending to be me?"

**What Will She Do When Disaster Strikes?**

"I need to find my happy place. Findddd my happy place...."

**And. Does. She. Really. Have. It. All?**

"Oh, hi. Amelie darling, grow a backbone and call Lacey a bitch for me."  
"Yes ma'am."

**When You're Dangling From A Cliff,**

"Don't just stand there! Call the damn 911 number!"

**Try Not To Fall Off,**

"I just can't take any more of you!"

**Or You'll Die Off Of Massie Block's "IN" List.**

"SHE is officially OUT!"

**When I'm Missing...**

"Where is she?"  
"Lunching at Serendipity."  
"Well then, I hope she gains."  
GASP.

**You'll Always Find Me...**

"There you are! I was looking for you!"  
"For three hours?"  
"I was hungry."  
"How long does it take to shove a quarter-pounder down your throat?"

**Wherever You Are.**

**The Life of Massie Block.  
**

**xxx**

**A/N: **I understand how crappy those quotes were, but this is more of er, hidden-ish now? I need for you guys to give me a few pairing ideas, try to revolve around any Clique character you can think of, but I can't promise you that I'll be using all of the original characters. I'll try my best, though.

luhveeee, maggie


	2. Welcome To Burned Ashes

**A/N: **First chapter of _Wherever You Are_. So. All (most) characters are 24 that attended BOCD. I put a poll on my profile for who you think Massie should date. Also! Wherever You Are's name came from the song "Welcome To Wherever You Are" by Ten Second Epic. And this chapter is introductory, so it pretty much sucks. Written so you get to know Massie's 24 year-old self and background. Enough info?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Clique; Lisi Harrison and all others associated do.

**xxx**

**Wherever You Are, Chapter One**

**Welcome To Burned Ashes, Introductory Chapter.**

_--somewhere in the world now, you're getting out of bed.--_

The repeated beat of the song "Celebrity Status" filled the walls of Massie Block's spaceous apartment complex waking the asleep alpha. Her reflective brunette waves tumbled down to her shoulders as she gently stretched her spine upwards while grabbing the sleek iPhone from her mahogany side table.

"Huh-llo?" Massie said into the phone, taking a peek at the clock. 4:26 A.M.

"Hi, boss!" It was simply too early for this. "So, anyway, I'm like having trouble finding your office."

I exhaled sharply. "Capri. I said four P.M. not A.M."

"Ohhhhh."

"Yeah. Oh." I regretted even hiring my assistant, Amelie Lansette's cousin. She couldn't even understand what P.M. meant. "Bye." I tapped the green "End Call" fixture on the phone, looking into my tall mirror.

My amber eyes gave an overly bored stare, my slim, tanned body curved like a hunched C, and I looked pretty usual. If pretty usual got you the number-one spot on People's 'Most Beautiful' list.

Swiftly leaning my legs over the bed frame, I put the pressure heavily on them, and walked to the clean, thanks to my maid Kami, bathroom.

Quickly changing out of my pajamas, which consisted of a Cosabella camisole and loose Stella McCartney lounge pants, I wrapped a fresh white towel around my frame to do the random shower necessities.

About 40 minutes later, I was dressed and ready to go to work; which _had _to be a record. The longest record for picking out an outfit.

Oh well, at least I looked nothing but stunning.

The shoes were so delicate that it made it hard for me to walk; even just heading through the long halls and numerous doors to my kitchen. As if I cooked.

I sat at my marble breakfast bar which was covered with file folders, papers, forms, newpaper articles, cut-outs from my magazine (and fashion label). Sadly, Sofisticate wasn't easy running. More sad news to include that Capri's call made me loose the rest of my sleep.

Yet again, I powered up my iPhone and texted my beta and best friend Alicia Riveria.

**Massie: **Leesh, rate me.

I quickly took a picture of myself, attaching it to my message, and fowarded it out.

**AliciaR/H: **9.4. Cute outfit, adore the shoes. The shirt doesn't match, tho.

**Massie: **I know, I did it on purpose.

**AliciaR/H: **9.4? Pssh, what I meant to say was 9.6...

**Massie: **Very funny. How's Josh doing?

**AliciaR/H: **Great. He says hi.

**Massie: **Heart to stay and chat, but I'm going to get to work. Sula!

**AliciaR/H: **Sulm!

Ah, Alicia's sign-off made me smile. "See U Later, Massie" only reminded me that we were having a girl's night out tonight.

**MaeL: **Massie, we are having a major mess-up here!

I rolled my eyes at my assistant, Amelie-Mae Lansette's text. She thought she was cool _if _she could make her name text-worthy.

**MaeL: **Why aren't you answering me? OMG!

Might as well let her spaz out while I take my sweet time getting there. Payback for Capri.

Grabbing my keys off their hook on the wall, I walked out to the elevator and stood there, scanning over my planner in the meantime.

8:00 A.M. Photoshoot with models for November issue.

10:30 A.M. Check intern's articles.

11:10 A.M. Drive out to Zushi for sushi.

1:00 P.M. Attend day fashion show of Marc Jacobs'.

2:30 P.M. Write review at Sofisticate online site.

3:00 P.M. Figure out business expenses.

4:00 P.M. Job interview for Capri.

5:00 P.M. Shop with Alicia at Saks Fifth Avenue.

7:40 P.M. Eat dinner out with Alicia.

9:00 P.M. Friday night sleepover.

Frowning, although happy, at the line-up, I stepped out of the boxed metal doors and through the Italian-inspired lobby plus the revolving doors to the cold air of New York City.

Starbucks was a hop, skip, and jump away so I decided against driving my white Mercedes Benz for walking. Green was the new Black, after all.

A first disastrous attempt in cutting through NYC traffic, and many more to come, I ever-so patiently waited for some of the people to clear before I was the newest material to test on cars.

_--you're standing on your own feet, to shake your sleepy head.--_

I put on a file; the clicking of my heels against the wood floor guiding me to the front of the line at my local Starbucks past the annoyed herd of awaiting customers.

Pushing aside some loser with a neon Mohawk, I made it to the front of the line.

The employee gave a glare, sneered, and just imagine a "Erma! Erma! You cut in front of the line, pumpkin. How about you head back th-ere?" She then pointed to the very winded path of frusterated coffee-goers.

I so could not handle this again. "Hi," I glanced down at the worker's nametag. "Beth! Haven't seen you in _forever_. How's Pierre doing? Does he still know that you had his kid even though he's married to Paige? And how has Patrick been in the bed?' I smirked at the girl's pale complexion which was now paling to an unusal low. Plus, the sight of some male with a name tag that read "manager" was pleasing to me.

Droning on about Penelope, I finally gave in my order. "Oh, BTW, I'll have a tall nonfat iced vanilla latte."

Giving her $10, telling her to "keep the change", and heading over to the pick-up arm qualified as the rest of my plan.

I tapped my fingers to the beat of Celebrity Status while looking at the shaky Beth. "H-Here you go."

"Thanks doll."

Gyrating my hips from one side to the other, I exited with as much attention as I could possibly muster up. A nice way to start the morning always made me look foward to working.

**xxx**

"No, Sebastien, can you angle the model in the black motorcycle jacket so she looks like she's falling, and the hot kid next to her so he's catching? Or no, maybe if we..." I intertwined a piece of my hair around my finger, thinking for a moment. "We do have the advantage of a busy, city-like atmosphere."

Sebastien's dark hair fell in his eyes, and he brushed it out, giving me a once-over in disbelief. "Okay, sure, Ms. Block."

"Seb, you can call me Massie, alright? You're about four months older than me." I said, brushing my brunette locks out of my eyes.

His own brunet hair was messy, his blue eyes fixed on his camera. "Yeah, _Mass_."

"Only my best friend calls me that."

"Yes, who was she again? Hot Spanish kid who you gossip with about every few seconds?" He then laughed at his own joke, polishing the lens for any grime.

I gave him a cold glare. "Yup." I smiled lightly. "So, mind if I call you Sebbie?"

It was hysterical. His eyes went as wide as Lord knows what. Sebastien stood there, in thought, most likely weighing his options out. "Is there any, possible way that you won't?"

"I don't think so."

We gave each other looks, he laughing a little, and gestured out to the set where the models were mindlessly doing the odds and ends of a very awkward position.

"Hold that pose. And. Give Sebastien that bored, edge, tough, careless model-look that none of you seem to own at this moment."

Sebastien held his handheld close to him, photographing them in every angle, look, and pose that he could.

I took a good look at him. He was 5'9, slightly muscular and well fit. Dark brown hair, light blue eyes, and a light tan held his outward features. In fact, he looked quite like a model himself. Only, different. He was a great person to work with, and that's being nice, being mean- I would've pointed out his flaws in less than a second.

This is different.

_--if you win, you take the credit, if you lose, you take the blame.--_

I slid half of a California roll into my mouth as a writer, Jacob Ramsay, droned on about his 'exciting and adventurous' trip to Aspen.

"SO then..." I sighed slowly, tired of whatever he was talking about.

Mhm, cute guy over at Table Nine. And Eleven, come to think of it. There isn't a girl with them, is there? Or no. The cuter, blonder one was flirting with the waitress.

That waitress seems to have dirty blond hair and a knock-off (something so vile that it can knock-you-out) dress with fake Prada flats. Nice choice there, _slick_. This is strange. He should not be flirting with a girl like her. Girls like her should be flirting with truckers or whatever. Or gas-station owners. Yes, that could work.

I shouldn't intrude, but this situation needs a bit of drama to add. No way I'm letting her get pride out of him.

"I'll be back in.. two secs?" Giving off what looked to be a smile, I slid out of my chair and into a mass destruction.

The guy had a hidden smile, his white teeth shining against his lightly tanned complexion. He had somewhat messy blond hair and distracting blue eyes. HART-worthy.

Discreetly sliding through the crowd, I picked up a menu and hid my face behind.

He smiled. "Hey. I'm Chris, what's your name?"

She giggled in response. "Kri-sten."

"Ah, Kristin! I used to know a girl named Kristin, but she wasn't as hot as you."

Scratch that. LBRs in the making. Kristin Gregory and Chris Abeley. Cannot believe I even confused Chris for someone cute. Well. I might as well make sure they see me, but I shouldn't make it obvious. I'm sure they'd love to see their favorite alpha.

Twisting backward, I went back to my table (around Sebastien's seat, standing up), filed, tossed the menu Frisbee-style at a seven year-old, and began speaking loudly. "Ehmagawsh, I have an amazing idea for what we can do for Sofisticate. Seb, can you photograph the models in potato sacks paired with prints, fishnets, or whatev?"

He gave me a confused look, and I returned with a "play-along" look. l brushed my fingers through his hair and ran my fingers down the side of his left cheek. His eyes twinkled lightly, and gave me a sincere smile. "Sure."

They were staring intently now, eyes fixed on me. Just how I liked it.

I bent down to his level, leaning into him to make Kristin think this was top-secret (because she would no doubt follow whatever I said) and began detailing whatever came to the top of my head.

The charade went on for awhile, with Kristin staring at us with wide eyes but knowing better than to actually say hi.

Seb and I play-flirted, I had to make it look like I wasn't single. I sort-of enjoyed it, but that's just because I hadn't for a long time.

Stupid he-who-shall-not-be-named.

**xxx**

I laughed. "Uh-Leesh-Yuh!"

"What?" she asked, innocently smiling back.

"Let me see what you're looking at." Coyly smiling back at me, she showed me her RL looks: an antique grey cashmere boyfriend cardigan, vintage brown calfskin leather belt, a navy Catherine halter.

"Ah-dore the halter! I'm so borrowing that later."

"Ehma, I also picked up an Armani dress and a pair of Citizens of Humanity jeans." She showed me the items, which were hanging over an assistant's overstuffed hands (from the bag, shoe, jewlery, and beauty section). "What about you?"

The Alexander McQueen herringbone sheath dress, Tory Burch jacket, Rock & Republic denim shorts, and numerous Zac Posen pieces were thrown over my assistant's weak shoulders. I gestured to her. "Well, I don't think I can fit it into an en-_tire_ sentence."

Alicia rolled her eyes, and swatted the air as if there was a fly. "Nawt to mention, but how gossip-point worthy was your afternoon?"

"Ah-lot."

"Go awn, Mass!" she giggled, sliding her gold card over to the cashier.

"Whatev. You go first."

She rolled her shoulders back, and proudly leaned in to the infamous gossip position to detail about. After a good dish on some Disney star (who knew kids' networks could have stars so dirty?) she began to poke me for my own share.

_--no one knows where you are, and they never will again.--_

"Repeat that! You actually saw Kuh-risten Gregory?" She shook her dark brunette hair out of her face, eyebrow cocking with a mischievous glint.

"No lie. And Chris Abeley was flirting with her."

Alicia gasped. "He so dropped ten stories since high school."

"Yes, he so did."

_Burned ashes are what make up past._

**xxx**

**Song Stuck In Massie's Head: **"Celebrity Status" by Marianas Trench.

**Song Used In -- through -- Quotes: **"Welcome To Wherever You Are" by Ten Second Epic.

**Quote At End of Story: **Something I came up with when I thought of a title name.

xxxo, maggie


End file.
